The Sorcerer's Wife
by discocompacto
Summary: When Morgana heads on to attack Camelot's borders, Arthur comes to discover one of Merlin's most well-kept secrets... and it's not necessarily related to his magic.
1. Chapter 1

"We've received word, Sire," said Sir Leon after getting on his feet. "of attacks on Camelot's borders. People request assistance, my Lord. Women and children are badly wounded, their men all but dead, they have no physician."

"They're beyond Camelot's borders," Arthur took the liberty of emphasizing from his seat, already foreshadowing that those people, in need as they might have been, were beyond their help's reach. "We're at war, Sir Leon, I cannot afford to send a group of men beyond our borders and leave the city defenseless."

"I understand, my Lord. But perhaps if we could send Gaius and a decent escort, we would only be a few men short, hardly a significant loss."

The King of Camelot took a few seconds to appreciate the suggestion. He glanced at the court's physician and after having received an approving nod from him, he himself repeated the gesture to Sir Leon as a sign of approval.

"And where is it we would be sending Gaius and his escort to?"

"Engerd, Sire."

He was interrupted by the sound of metal clattering against the floor the second the name of the village left his lips. Everyone seated at the round table turned their heads in silence, only to find the King's servant standing frozen on the spot, paler than he had ever been, with the tray he had up to that moment been carrying in his hands now laying at his feet.

There was no time for Arthur to make a remark on his servant's ineptitude, like he was known to do. As a matter of fact, there was no time for him to offer any sort of reaction, since before he had the chance, Merlin had left the room, more swiftly than anyone would have expected him to be able to given his state.

"Merlin!" Arthur finally had the chance to call out but only after the young man had fled the room.

"Gaius?" Guinevere gently demanded, turning to the one man she was certain knew Merlin better than anyone else in the room.

The old man lowered his eyes, though he could not stay silent for long, not with the stare of everyone in the room set upon him.

"I do believe he will try and leave for Engerd, my Lady," he said at last, his voice faint.

"I'm sure he has got a perfectly good reason for leaving so suddenly, hasn't he?"

"Indeed he does, my Lady." He glanced up at his queen shortly. "But I'm afraid that is not my secret to share."

—

"Going somewhere?"

The sudden sound of his voice in the middle of the dark, silent hallway made the young woman gasp. She swiftly turned on her heel, knife in hand, only to find herself holding the blade up to Merlin's neck.

For a few seconds, they stood still, witnessing how each other's eyes rapidly filled with tears. Eventually, she lowered her knife and audibly swallowed in an attempt to hold herself together. Her neckline tensed, and Merlin felt his heart clench within his chest as he watched how soon she had managed to stand up tall and remain firm while he was on the verge of collapsing himself.

"I'm leaving, Merlin," she confessed out of quivering lips.

"Yeah," was all he could breathe out. After taking a deep breath, he forced himself to proceed. "I figured as much. The true question is 'where and why'."

"I don't know where."

Her strength betrayed her. When she tried to speak again, her voice broke and she was forced to bring a hand up to her mouth in order to repress a sob or two before she could even think of saying anything else.

"I'm not your destiny. Arthur is, Camelot is."

"You're my destiny as well, you could be my destiny too."

"But I'm not," she disagreed, shaking her head with sad slowness. "I see the way you put your life at risk every single day, Merlin, you cannot ask me to stay here and witness that—"

"Then I'll come with you."

The both of them knew that was a lie, but from the way in which Merlin had taken hold of her wrist, it was also evident that there was nothing he would not have done or said if it meant keeping her by his side. She knew better, however, and was perfectly aware that even if they were to leave together, hardly a single day would go by before he sneaked his way back to Camelot, even if it was merely to make sure everything was alright.

"—You can't. Even if you wanted to, which I know you don't."

"This— cannot be the last time I'll see you."

"And it won't be," she promised, bringing a hand up to tenderly cup his cheek, brushing his cheekbone with her thumb in an attempt to comfort him. "but for now, I need to make sure I'm not a burden."

"You're not a—"

"Merlin," she interrupted him, pressing the tip of her fingers to his lips, closing her eyes. "Say nothing else, I beg of you."

Taking advantage of her having her eyes closed, knowing there would be nothing she could do to stop him, Merlin brought both his hands to her face and pulled her in, capturing her lips with his own. The young woman rested her hands on his wrists and returned the kiss gladly, the pair of them allowing tears to stream freely down their faces.

"I love you," whispered one.

"I love you," replied the other.

—

"Going somewhere?"

Merlin turned on his heel, finding himself face to face with Arthur.

"It was rhetorical," he rushed to say before his servant could provide him with a response. "You are obviously going somewhere. I wonder, however, with whose authorization. Certainly not mine."

"Arthur—"

"You're leaving for Engerd."

"I am, but—"

"We are at war with one of the most dangerous priestesses Camelot's ever faced yet, my little sister…"

"If you would just—"

"… and you find it a good idea to venture towards our borders by yourself, expecting I would just allow it."

"I have a wife."

Merlin knew such a statement would finally grant him the time he needed to explain himself. And indeed, he was not wrong. There Arthur stood, his lips opening as though he was about to say something, only for them to close once more, over and over again. The warlock took that as a sign to go on.

"When I first came to Camelot, I ran across an old childhood friend— A very special old childhood friend. Within the year we got married. And not a year after that, she left…"

"She left you?"

"She didn't leave me, she just left. For Engerd."

"I don't… quite understand," said Arthur, still having a hard time enunciating a handful of words at once.

Merlin pursed his lips into a tight line and shrugged his shoulders. The reasons why he wished to leave for Camelot's borders so promptly had already been evidenced and anything else he should say on the matter would only confuse the king even further.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be able to explain yourself during our ride there. After all, it is going to take us a day and a half, two days."

Now the roles had inverted. Merlin was the one that was confused and Arthur the one who needed to do the explaining.

"Prepare the horses, we leave within the hour. Gwaine is coming with us."

"I— You said— Arthur, there's a war. You said so yourself. You're the king, you cannot…"

"You know, Merlin?" the other punctuated him, turning his back as he walked away. "You would think that after all these years you would have learned already…"

Just as he was about to leave the stables, he held onto the frame and looked at him.

"I never listen to you."


	2. Chapter 2

It had been Gaius himself that decided not to travel with the other three young men, not only because he trusted he had taught Merlin well enough for him to manage with the wounded on his own, but also because he was very much aware of the fact that he would but slow them down given his age, something they could not afford if there really were agonizing patients waiting on the other side of the border.

"Thank you," muttered Merlin as he swiftly placed the strap his bag of medicines across his chest, hanging it on the shoulder.

"Merlin," Gaius attempted, but cut himself off before he could go on.

"Yeah?" asked the young man, encouraging him to proceed.

The old man forced himself to smile and reached up to grant his apprentice a pat on his upper arm. Surely there was already far too much in the other's mind for him to plague him with more torments such as reminding him just how dangerous that quest would be, together with the high probability of him needing to make use of his magic in front of Arthur.

"I'll have your favorite meal waiting for you."

Meanwhile, Guinevere stood on the staircase outside the castle and watched with worried eyes as her husband settled himself upon his horse. Her bosom rose and sunk again when she tried to take a soothing deep breath. Gwaine was brushing his long brunet locks away from his face when he walked up to her side.

"You will take care of him?"

She did not mean to sound hesitant. After all, it was well known that any of Arthur's knights would be willing to give their lives for him. However, given the running times, the Queen of Camelot could not be blamed for worrying for her life partner's well being. Especially considering his only other company was… well, Merlin.

"I always do, my Lady," assured her the knight, far too casually for her liking.

" _Gwaine_." She stopped him from walking away from her by taking him by the arm. "Bring him home. Please."

"You have my word," said Gwaine, this time a lot more solemnly to her relief.

The young woman stood next to the court physician as they both watched the three horses gallop through the gates and towards the horizon that laid ahead. Guinevere brought the tip of her fingers to her lips to keep them for quivering, recalling the circumstances in which another knight had made such a promise to her.

As they turned to head back inside, their eyes met and they recognized their very own anguish in each other's gaze. In order not to get further distressed by speaking of it, their remained silent and parted ways towards their respective chambers, left with no choice but to pray for the success of the journey.

Once they had ventured themselves into the forest, and seeing how Merlin had his own horse galloping as agilely since they had left the palace, Arthur looked to Gwaine and made a gesture with his hand that suggested he should try keep up with said agility like he himself did until his horse was galloping right next to his servants.

"We shouldn't tire the horses," he advised nonetheless. "We've still got a day and a half of riding ahead of us, and that's with all the odds in our favour."

"Bandits."

At the warning, Gwaine wielded his sword and jumped right of his horse, twiddling his weapon in his wrist before placing both hands on the end of it.

"What are you doing?" asked Merlin in an oxymoronic whispered cry.

"I thought you said bandits."

"And the first thought that crosses your mind is to confront them when it's nearly dark, not knowing how many you would be facing to begin with and leaving your king defenseless?"

The knight blinked perplexed, frozen in spot as he tried to process a thought.

"Not entirely defenseless. He has you."

Merlin heard a stifled snicker behind him and turned his head to find a very amused Arthur looking right back at him.

"What?"

With a roll of his eyes, he returned his attention to Gwaine who had at least had the decency to conceal his own merriment as best he could, even if he had failed miserably.

"Alright, well- He can take care of himself."

This time, it was Merlin who huffed a snicker.

"Excuse me," demanded his king from where he rode.

"What?" his servant mockingly defied him after having turned to look his way once again.

The sound of dry leaves and branches caving under the weight of feet foreign to their own interrupted them. The three heads swiftly turned to the direction from where they had heard the noise and, very slowly, Merlin had his horse back away towards the opposite way.

"Alright," he whispered to the pair. "we need to find a new path before we're sighted."

"The sun has all but set completely," Arthur pointed out as he gestured towards the lavender tint of the sky. "How do you suggest we find a path when we cannot see two metres ahead of us?"

A gold glimmer took over Merlin's irises as he viewed far ahead of them in search for a path more secure. A brief process that thankfully neither one of the knights noticed. He pulled at his horse's rains and started riding slowly towards a direction that to the ignorant eye would have seemed arbitrary.

"How do you know that is even a remotely correct way to go?"

The young warlock turned his head to the monarch and responded with a very non-promising shrug of his shoulders.

"Merlin, this is not the time to trust one of your precious, and may I say unwelcomely repeated, hunches."

"Just-"

Once again, they were punctuated by the sound of steps, only this time they sounded menacingly near compared to before.

"You have to trust me. When have my hunches ever been wrong in the end?"

And as Merlin rode away, Gwaine followed his lead without second thought after having jumped back on his horse, needing no further promise of success than the one granted by previous experience. It was Arthur that remained motionless for a moment or two as he hesitated. Eventually, however, and as it was expected of him, he followed the other two. After all, not a very long thinking procedure was needed for him to come to the realization that he did not necessarily count with a wide variety of choices. As a matter of fact, he doubted there was any other choice for him to go for other than the one Merlin suggested right that instant.

So it was that the three of them ventured down the multiple alternative ways Merlin led through. How he was doing it, however, was beyond Arthur and Gwaine's comprehension. Sense of smell, was one of the multiple responses he would give in an attempt to justify his mysterious gift to come across paths that never consisted of encounters with either bandits or druids, and even though both knights knew better, they would never question it too much. Whatever it was, after all, was the reason they managed to pull off a one-day journey without any mishaps. Or at least it would have lasted a whole day, if Arthur had not decided that trusting his servant's surprisingly keen orientation without any sunlight to watch where they went would have been far too unwise of them. It was not until the sun had set completely that Merlin finally agreed to stop riding for the evening, although he did comment as he climbed off his horse that there was an absurd amount of moonlight, perfectly enough to allow them to see ahead of them quite decently until dawn. Although, and even though he would not admit it out loud, he had to agree the three of them needed both nourishment and rest.

The first one was taken care of quite swiftly. The latter, however- Arthur watched as Merlin struggled to get any sleep. Lying on the ground were he was, the warlock turned from one side to the other over and over, crossing his arms in multiple different positions, yet apparently never managing to feel comfortable enough to stay put for over ten seconds. The king must have looked more worried than he had intended to show, for soon Gwaine moved to take a seat right next to him.

"You look concerned, my Lord," commented he as he did.

"I am at war with my own sister and away from my home, Gwaine," Arthur proceeded to remind him.

"What do we know about her? I'm almost afraid to ask him."

Arthur was relieved. For a moment, he had feared he would have said something about how concerned he seemed to be about someone he himself claimed was merely his servant.

"Her name is Gwendolyn. They've known each other since childhood, were practically raised together. Not much more."

"Wh- He told you all that?" asked the knight, almost offended that a friend of his had decided to keep that much information from him as if he were someone not to be trusted.

"Gaius did, before we left."

One glance was all it took for Gwaine to realize he was not the only one amongst them who felt he was not as close a friend of Merlin's as he had once thought.

"Well, it had to come at some point, didn't it?" said he in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"What?"

"The day we found somebody that knows Merlin even better than we do."

"Oh, please," huffed the king of Camelot. "I know Merlin better than I know myself."

And with that, he turned his head to look at the subject in question once more, who was yet not fast asleep even though at least he was no longer tossing and turning every few seconds.

"For all we know, so does she."

Arthur did not realize how long it had taken him to come up with a response until he turned his head to reply, only to find that Gwaine was no longer beside him. Instead, he was lying on his back just a few feet away from his servant, his hands crossed over his chest. It had taken him longer than desired to think of something that did not reveal such a statement had awakened his thoughts as fervently as he had, finding it oddly unsettling that a person that really did know Merlin better than he did, figuring after second thought that he hardly knew anything about him. He found it wiser to leave such an idea alone, put it to rest for the night. Should he insist and go any further with that train of thought, he would hardly be able to get any sleep that night. And so it was that the king decided to do as his two companions and laid on his side, watching the fire slowly extinguish just as his eyelids became heavier and heavier.

He dreamed of a lake at dawn and himself lying motionless on the shore.


End file.
